Loss of Contact
by SamCyberCat
Summary: After the boat Luke had boarded to go to America was reported as sunk, Layton tries to find out what happened to his apprentice. If only he'd been there to see for himself.
1. Chapter 1

Note – Written for a kinkmeme response to a prompt that wanted the boat Luke boarded to be the Titanic, with Layton and Flora's reactions to finding out what happened to it and an optional ending to if Luke survived or not. Set in an AU based soon after the end of the third game with probable spoilers for that game but nothing directly spoiler-y.

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><p>"Professor, no! You mustn't!" Flora shrieked, clutching onto the newspaper article as if her life depended on it.<p>

Layton raised an eyebrow, his hand still out-stretched from his request to see the paper. Quite frankly he had no idea why Flora was so upset. It was unusual enough for her to be awake and to have read the paper before him, but this was just baffling.

"Please Flora, just let me have a look," he said calmly, "If the press has written anything negative about me then I'm sure that it's nothing I can't handle."

"It isn't that at all…" mumbled Flora, her grip loosening on the paper. It flopped out of her hands and landed on the floor, first page facing upwards.

The headline was as clear as day:

'TITANIC SINKS, 1500 DIE'

Layton's heart might well have stopped right then, but somehow it didn't. His throat felt suddenly dry. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Flora shuddering. She knew what this meant. He knew what this meant. There was a very strong possibility that…

…No!

He didn't know enough information about the situation to be making assumptions like that!

Layton fled the room, grabbing onto the phone and dialling the number that Clark had left for them. There was no response for a long while, but he shouldn't have expected one. Contacting America on a normal day was hard enough, but right now everyone who had a connection to the Titanic would be trying to get through… Regardless, he stayed there for hours without giving up and after several false alarms with operators eventually he got through to the house number that Clark had provided.

"Hello, my name is Hershel Layton and I'm ringing to ask if the Triton family have arrived at this address," he said quickly.

The voice that greeted him was that of a house keeper and didn't contain the news he wanted to hear; "I'm sorry sir, but I don't think the Tritons are ever going to arrive here. Such a shame…"

"You mean that they…?" he started.

"Mr. Triton almost certainly," she answered, "It's too soon for them to have confirmed anything yet, but it was women and children first, you know."

So there was a chance that Luke and Brenda had made it at least!

"Please, I know that this will be your last priority, but if anyone of them does turn up then ask them to contact me on this number," Layton finished, providing his contact details before saying goodbye to the lady and hanging up.

He wandered back through to the living room, aware that he'd spent all that time confirming nothing. The sight that greeted him was Flora, sat on the sofa with her head in her hands, sobbing loudly. Upon hearing the news about the Titanic, Layton had pretty much abandoned her to deal with this information by herself and she'd probably been in this room for all of the hours he'd been trying to get through on the phone. Feeling immensely guilty about this, Layton took a seat next to her.

If the young girl had been annoyed at him for rushing out like that she didn't show it, simply collapsing against him and continuing to cry into his shirt.

Stroking her hair, Layton whispered, "I'm sorry, my girl, but they didn't know anything about it…"

Flora nodded quietly; "I-I heard…"

"That doesn't mean they're… gone. But it'll take more time than this for anything to be determined," he went on, trying to provide a bright side.

"Will you k-keep calling th-them…?" she stammered, looking up at him through her tear-filled eyes.

"Until I get a definite answer, I will," Layton promised.

This was a promise he managed to keep. Day in, day out, he would call the intended Triton residence, causing much annoyance in the staff that frequently had to tell him the same thing. But he didn't care, he kept on calling. He didn't even care that his presence at the university was becoming even tardier as he prioritised staying home to do this task, he kept on calling anyway. He certainly cared least of all about how expensive these calls were becoming and that jeopardising his job ran the risk of losing the funds to pay for them - he had to know the truth.

Eventually, one of these calls was answered by the original house keeper who had taken his first call. The others were probably scared off by him, so she had been left to do it. At first she sounded firm but there was an edge of sympathy to her voice.

"Look, Mr. Layton, I know this isn't what you wanted to hear but the survivors have been confirmed now and I feel it's only fair to tell you," she started.

"Any news you have is good enough for me," Layton answered, as Flora walked over to listen closer to what was being said.

"Clark Triton was definitely among those who stayed on the boat, he didn't make it," the lady said.

How very much like Clark, Layton thought. Staying behind to help give his wife and son a chance. He was a noble man and would not be forgotten…

"And the others?" he heard himself saying.

There was a sigh on the other end; "They were among those who got on the lifeboats, but they weren't counted as survivors. I'm very sorry to tell you this. The house is going to be repossessed since they won't be living here, so we're going to have to ask you to stop calling."

"Very well, that was all that I wanted to know anyway," Layton said, his heart sinking, "Thank you so much for your patience, madam."

As the phone went dead Flora reached up to hug her father-figure, neither of them saying a word. He felt a tear roll down his cheek but did nothing to wipe it away. The Triton family, Luke, was gone. Almost certainly dead. If only he'd known when he'd said farewell to Luke prior to boarding the Titanic that it would be for the last time.

If only…

If only Layton had been on the American side of the port a few months back when the lifeboats had been brought to dock to see what had happened. There was such a crowd there, so many people screaming the names of relatives or trying to get a photo they could make a quick buck from or just watching because this was history being made.

There was pushing and shoving as people tried to fight their way through the crowd, but one little boy from England did not join in, just allowing himself to be moved along with the crowd.

Within the past day Luke had seen the solemn face of his father, waiting behind on the Titanic as he watched his wife carry their son away. Both Clark and Luke knew that there were not enough lifeboats for everyone aboard and as their eyes met they knew that this was the last time they would see each other.

But that was not the only tragedy that he'd met on that boat. The lifeboat that Luke and his mother had got on had not been fortunate… He could clearly remember the panicked faces of those around him, calling out to the other boats as they splashed in the water. There was an air of everyone for themselves, but not on the face of his mother. Brenda had swam through those ice cold waters, clutching Luke close and not stopping until they sighted one of the rescue boats hours later.

"…Please call out, Luke… I don't have the strength…" she whispered hoarsely.

"Oi…! 'ello, please someone 'elp!" Luke cried out, his voice was also cracked but much more fit to shout than his mother's was. The light from the boat swung in their direction and Luke broke into a smile, paddling over towards it, "We're gonna be all right, mum! They're comin'…"

"Get up boy!" called a man from the boat, "Heaven knows how long you'll last in this ocean."

"Okay…! Come on, mum…" Luke said, reaching out behind him to grab Brenda's arm.

But his hand gripped nothing and merely splashed against the water's surface.

"Mum…?"

"Hurry up!"

"You don't get it, I 'ave t' find 'er!" Luke shouted.

The men on the boat looked around, before one of them answered, "There's no one left alive here except for you, these are all corpses. Now climb up if you don't want to join them."

With great reluctance, Luke had to accept that the last of his mother's strength had given out and she'd sank to the bottom of the ocean, after spending hours pushing her son to safety. Clark and Brenda Triton now slept together in the sea, how ironic…

Allowing himself to be pulled up, Luke huddled in the corner as some blankets were thrown over him. He hardly felt their warmth; he hardly felt anything at all.

That hollow feeling lasted all the way up to when he was getting off the boat with the other survivors, knowing that there was no one there to greet him.

Luke didn't bother to be registered amongst the survivors, there was little point. And everyone was so distracted by the hubbub that no one had noticed him leaving to stop him. Without money or food or even a family, Luke Triton wandered off into the night.

If only Layton had known that.


	2. Chapter 2

Notes – A few people commented saying that they wanted to see this continued and I was quite interested in doing so, thus another chapter. This one will purely deal with Luke, while the next chapter will be about Layton and Flora. It's been a long time since I've really written anything multi-chaptered, so please bear with me. Once more, there might be a few mild spoilers for the third game but nothing really direct.

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><p>The sound of the crowd went on long into the night. There were cries of joy from those reunited with their loved ones and wails of despair from others who weren't so fortunate as to be greeted with survivors from the Titanic. The despaired wails vastly outweighed the joyful cries.<p>

Luke had walked far enough away from the crowd for it all to sound like a ringing blur in the background. There were still people in this part of town, but for the most part they were all headed for the docks. None of them paid him any attention and he was glad of it. What could he possibly say to anyone who had spoken to him? His mind was still consumed by what had happened to his parents.

His legs eventually told him that it was time to stop, so he let them give out without much consideration to where they landed him. This was all part of a strange land to him, so one street was no different from another. He sat with his back pressed against the damp stone wall of a side street, letting the world pass him by.

By the time he regained his senses once more it was morning. Luke wasn't entirely sure if he'd slept or not, but something had clicked inside of his head – he had to start thinking again. Nothing would come of drowning in self-pity here. The only thing to do was to assess the situation and think of what to do next.

So… both of his parents were gone. With them had gone any hope of finding the house they were supposed to be headed to, as Luke had never been told the address. Even if he had it was unlikely that they'd let him live there out of sympathy, seeing as he hadn't the money to fund the house. Most likely they'd hand him over to an orphanage who'd try to contact any living relatives that he had. Who had his parents appointed to be Luke's legal guardian should anything happen to them?

…The professor, of course!

Well, Luke wasn't really sure if they had done, but he was the only option, really. And even if he wasn't Layton would definitely come to help Luke. He should have thought about that sooner!

Any other plans he might have come up with were forgotten amongst the overwhelming desire to call Layton and tell him everything. Rummaging through his pockets, Luke pulled out the money that he had been given before leaving England. Thankfully, his parents had exchanged the pounds for dollars prior to leaving, which made everything easier for him. Surely this was enough for him to call London.

But that turned out to not be the case. Calls to other countries were expensive, even more so from a public phone. However, the thought of calling the professor, the man who could fix anything, dominated Luke's mind. He had to get the money.

So Luke did what was possibly the least gentlemanly thing he'd ever done – he scrounged the streets for change. Any money that might have been dropped. All pride he'd ever had in himself drained away as he shoved his hands down drains in the hope of finding even one dime.

When that got all too much for him he would just sit on the sidewalk, amongst those kids from less fortunate walks of life, with his hat out beside him in the hope that some passersby would be charitable to drop him some change. Never had he felt more fitted to the role of a cockney street urchin than this far away from London. Maybe that was irony, he wasn't sure.

After so long of scrounging and begging, Luke eventually gathered enough money to make that call. He rushed to the phone box, jamming the door shut and holding the receiver in his quaking hands before dialling the numbers he knew by heart.

Admittedly, this was the university's number and not Layton's personal number, but surely he'd be there. And if not then they could find him, Luke was certain of that.

The process was laborious and Luke cursed all the many other people who were probably making calls to England for slowing down the connection, but eventually an operator got him through to the university.

"'ello! I need t' speak t' Professah Layton please!" he yelled down the line as soon as it was picked up.

"Please don't shout," he heard from the other end, "Professor Layton is unfortunately not here right now, he hasn't been for a while. Nothing is official, but in light of what's happened recently he's having… a leave of absence, I suppose."

"Can you getta message to 'im at least?" Luke tried, sounding desperate.

There was a pause, followed by, "I really don't think it would be wise to disturb him."

"You don't understand! I need to talk to 'im! You've gotta tell 'im that-"

His credit ran out. The line went dead.

That stupid man, whoever he had been! Surely he must have recognised Luke's voice; the professor was hardly ever without him. Unless he was the substitute teacher covering while Layton was away…

No matter, he'd make another call.

Using what money, though?

It dawned on Luke that he'd scraped every penny he had into making that call… He couldn't even remember the last time he'd really eaten since he arrived. Maybe he could throw together enough money to call again, but what was saying that it wouldn't just be a repeat of what had happened this time?

No, he had to accept that this wasn't time for the professor to come to save him. This was time to knuckle down and find his own way.

He could go to the authorities, couldn't he?

Would they even care though?

Luke had seen dozens of people lining the streets here; they had no homes to go to. If the police didn't help them than one more lost young boy would make no difference. It wasn't as if there was anyone looking for him here and everyone back in England most likely thought he was dead…

The only way was to learn how people in this situation lived and copy that until he could afford to go back to London. That was his ultimate goal.

As he trudged down the street, Luke mused that he could get by, even get food, by gathering money the way he had done – by searching for lost change and begging. But the sensible side of his mind pointed out to him how long it had taken to get enough money to make one overseas phone call.

There had to be better ways to get money.

In front of him, towering at least twice his height was a woman walking a small dog. She looked rather plump and though not an aristocrat clearly she was from a good walk of life. As she marched, Luke could tell that she just didn't see the hordes of homeless strays around her, having been trained to block them out while growing up. What was most noticeable about this lady, however, was the purse dangling at her side. One hard tug and she wouldn't have a chance to stop someone from…

…No! That was the last thing a gentleman should do!

Begging was one thing but at least it wasn't harming others.

It didn't matter that the woman probably wouldn't miss whatever change was in the purse too much, a gentleman should never do anything that would cause a lady distress. The professor was very firm about that.

And yet, the professor was not here. Maybe Layton was a true gentleman but Luke was not and right now couldn't afford to be one. If he did this then he wouldn't even qualify as a future gentleman.

All while he was arguing with himself over what was the correct action to take another voice was rising in his head. A voice that told him if he snatched the purse now then she'd never even see him because of his height and by the time she did he could have ducked into that alley on the right to be out of there before she had a chance to catch him, if he was quick enough.

While these voices debated inside of him, one rang true – it was now or never. Choose to starve with the pride of a gentleman or accept what fate's given you and live another day.

Luke knew what he had to do.

As a starving child, not a gentleman, he darted forward and snatched the purse, tugging it from the lady's shoulder and dashing around the corner to the sound of her screams and her little dog's yapping.

He had to keep on running, because he didn't know if anyone was chasing him, but eventually he made it. And then he had the money to buy food.

Although Luke could never be a gentleman again, he could live.

And for the moment that was all he wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

Notes - Right, so the third chapter out of a possible four is up. This is the first time I've written from Flora's POV so much and I enjoyed doing so a lot more than I expected to. Once again, possible mild but indirect spoilers for the third game.

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><p>"The professor isn't available at the moment, may I take a message?" Flora said.<p>

"It was nothing important really, nothing worth disturbing the poor guy for, it was just that we got a rather strange call asking for him at the university earlier and thought he should know," said the man on the other end of the line. Flora knew that he was the supply teacher covering for Layton while he was away, a nice young man from what she'd heard, albeit a bit too full of his own presumptions.

She also knew there was only one call that Layton really wanted to hear about and it wouldn't be this one.

"Do you know who it was?" she asked regardless.

"They didn't say, but it didn't sound like anyone who'd be associated with Professor Layton," replied the supply teacher, who had rarely bothered to follow the newspaper reports of Layton's adventures and knew little of the young cockney boy.

"Perhaps it was someone wanting to request his assistance with a mystery," she said, as the professor always got a lot of those sorts of calls.

"Yeah, and we both know he can't be doing with that right now," agreed the other man, "If you do need any help at all I could drop by, miss. There are a few documents that need to be dropped off."

"Thank you very much, Professor…" Flora paused for a name.

"Hammond, Professor Hammond," he said, laughing awkwardly.

"Very well, I'll see you later and perhaps the professor will be up to speaking to you as well," Flora finished, ending the conversation and hanging up the phone.

It wasn't worth disturbing Layton over something so trivial, she knew. He was still in bed resting. Ever since the housekeeper from America had confirmed the Triton family's deaths he'd been getting out of bed later and had been less attentive than usual. But as she walked past his room his voice called out.

"Who was that on the phone, Flora?"

"Just Professor Hammond," she said, looking in through the door, "He said that there had been a call to the university, probably asking for your help with a mystery, and that he'd drop off some papers for you later."

"Oh, well that is very good of him. He seems like a nice sort. But I don't think I'm quite up to solving any cases at the moment, so I do hope that people don't bother the university too often with such calls," Layton replied.

He was sitting up on the bed, even now trying to put on a brave face for her sake, but it was easy to see how haggard this all had left him. Within the space of a few months he had the painful wound of his old love Claire's death reopened and had lost his only chance to see her again, followed almost directly by the deaths of his loyal apprentice Luke and his old school friend Clark. Even a man as strong as him had started to crumble under all of that.

But Flora wished so hard that he would recover soon. The university had been very nice about his absence so far, but it was only a matter of time before a substitute might become a permanent replacement.

She said that he should rest and after a half hearted debate about whether he needed to or not left to go back to doing her chores.

Although not very skilled in the kitchen, Flora was becoming no stranger to chores. Over the few years that she had been staying with the professor she had been left at home many times. At first she had been very scared by this, but over time that fear had begun to be replaced by mild annoyance. The reason she was left behind, she knew, was because Layton didn't want any harm to come to her. And yet he took Luke on all of his adventures with very little questioning. Part of her resented that he thought of Luke as being so capable but not her.

So when she hadn't followed them she'd stayed at home and acted as was seen proper for a lady to act. But now it was different. Now she was doing all of these household chores because Layton needed her to. Finally, Layton needed her and not Luke to help with something. Even if he didn't realise it, Flora was determined to keep the house afloat during his depression.

Soon after the university's working hours were over there came a knock on the door. She answered it to be greeted by the nervous face of the man she assumed to be Professor Hammond.

"Um, hello. You must be Professor Layton's daughter," he said, "I'm here to drop off these papers."

"Thank you very much," Flora replied, taking them from him. She noted that he looked much younger than what she was used to seeing from university lecturers, this substitute position was probably his first job after graduating.

"There's one more thing," Hammond said, fishing around in his pocket, "One of the students has written a request from private tuition from Professor Layton during his absence. I know it's against protocol but she was quite-"

"Rosetta Stone?" Flora interrupted, trying not to laugh.

"Pardon?"

"Miss Stone wrote the letter, am I right?"

"How did you…?"

"She asks for private lessons from the professor quite often," Flora clarified, "I know it might be rude but I've taken to ignoring them."

"Well if that's the cause then I won't trouble you with any further requests," he said, pocketing the letter again before opening his mouth to bid her farewell.

"Can I ask you something, before you leave?" she cut in.

Hammond looked confused; "Of, um, of course."

She walked out of the house, closing the door to make sure Layton didn't hear them.

"The professor is in a very bad way right now and no one knows when he'll recover. I've been looking after him for this long and I don't even know if he will. The university has done so much for him and he appreciates that, but there's only so long that they can hold onto his job there without him turning up to teach," she said, staring firmly up at him.

Nervously, Hammond confirmed, "There has been talk…"

"If he was to not return, would you be his replacement?" she asked.

"Yes, I believe so. The university seems to like my work and it'd be my first real job," answered Hammond, trying not to let his chest swell too much with pride.

So she was right about this being his first job, which made this even harder.

"Then I've got to ask you that you hold the position for him," she said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You can have the job as long as the professor is away for, but when he comes back you must give it back to him," Flora clarified.

"And why should I?" he scoffed. Honestly, he'd always thought Layton sounded rather overrated and he didn't want to risk jeopardising his future career for the man.

"Because that's what a decent man would do," Flora told him, "Now good day, Professor Hammond."

She turned and went back into the house, closing the door behind her.

What a confusing situation.

He was now left with the choice of having a definite job that would help him gain a good position in society or looking decent in a young lady's eyes. Why would anyone even care about doing the latter?

Hammond left the Layton household extremely troubled.

While Flora went back into the household more troubled than he could ever imagine. If the professor found out she'd said something like that he would be most upset with her. And it would be easy enough for Hammond to inform the university of what she'd said.

But she had to do something! His position as the professor of archaeology at Gressenheller meant the world to him and she'd do anything to stop him from losing that.

"Was that the young man with the papers?" said Layton, as she walked through to his room.

"Yes, here you go professor," Flora replied, handing them over, "I wouldn't trouble yourself too much with them, though."

"Nonsense, I want to do anything I can to help the university during my absence," he dismissed, "I'm not too familiar with this substitute but he certainly has his work cut out of him. What did you make of him?"

"I… really don't know if he's a decent sort of man," she said quietly.

"What? Oh Flora, there's no need to worry about that. The university wouldn't hire him if he wasn't decent," Layton replied, smiling faintly.

That was the problem, though, if he wasn't a decent man then the university would hire him and her adopted father would be without a job…

She went to bed that night and did not sleep soundly. She went to bed for the nights of many months that followed to many more uneasy sleeps. And just as she was starting to feel herself cracking under the pressure, she woke up one morning to find Layton sat at the breakfast table, dressed and reading the paper.

"Professor…?" she said, blearily. This was the first morning for a long while that he'd been awake before her.

"Ah, good morning Flora, my girl, would you like some toast?" he said, the perfect picture of how he had looked before the tragedy had occurred.

"Well, all right then. Are you sure you're okay?" Flora replied, looking cautious.

"But of course. I… know that my attitude has been less than ideal these past few months," he confirmed, looking guilty, "But I have decided that it is time to get on with my life. What happened was indeed most tragic, but mourning will not bring them back and is rather unfair on you. So I've called the university today and Professor Hammond has kindly said that I can take over from him again as soon as I'm ready."

She smiled widely. So he was a decent sort after all!

Layton went back to work that very day, much to the joy of a certain red-haired student called Rosetta, and Flora tracked Hammond down to thank him personally.

And so life without Luke went on. Layton was back where he needed to be and Flora grew up, both of them in the knowledge that they would never see the young boy again.

Far across the seas in America, Luke grew up too. But he had every intention that he definitely would see the both of them again.

The boy who was now a young man eyed the ships at the dock.

That day was fast approaching.


	4. Chapter 4

Notes – So, this is the final chapter! Thank you to anyone who's read this, it's been fun doing my first multi-chaptered story in so many years, even if it was short. This might even be the first multi-chaptered fanfic I've completed. Ironically, in this chapter I don't think there are any spoilers for the third game at all, but if you've read this far then you've probably encountered a few anyway.

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><p>He could feel the eyes of the children staring up at him as he walked through the alley. Having people look up at him instead of down on him still felt like a novelty even after so many years. But Luke Triton was an adult now, only just, and puberty had miraculously provided the growth spurt that he'd always wanted as a young boy following the professor around.<p>

Luke had never forgotten about Layton and Flora.

Although sometimes it had been hard to remember them while forging a life on theft and other petty crimes. All the things he did now were things that they would disapprove of, but Luke needed to do them to survive. Those adventures, running around saving London with the professor, felt unreal now – like they were from a different life. In many ways they probably were.

But if there was one thing that Luke had taken out of his lessons from Layton it was how to be resourceful. And he had excelled at that.

He wasn't just pick-pocketing to stay alive anymore, he was good at it. Very good indeed. And all of the children staring up at him knew this. He was that strange boy who spoke with the funny accent but sometimes if they were lucky he would feed them scraps. Part of the reason it had taken Luke so long to raise the money to return to England was because of his bleeding heart, he knew. The other part was because he wanted to face Layton as a man, not as a scruffy young boy. He'd still be scruffy, of course, but being a man seemed to lessen that effect.

These children would be a miss, even if they weren't much company beyond stealing his food and exhausting his finances. If possible he would have taken all of them with him, but it had taken him so long to raise the money for himself even, let alone anyone else. As cruel as it was he was not a superhero, he couldn't help every starving orphan in America. They'd have to fend for themselves when he left.

With laborious progress he made his way down to the docks, busy as always at this time of day. Luke knew exactly which boat to go for, although he couldn't stop himself feeling nervous as he approached.

"Still sellin' tickets, gentlemen?" he asked, swaggering over.

"Push off, kid! We don't have time for urchins like you," one of the men called back.

"Really? Not even if I 'ave this?" Luke replied, waving the money in front of him but keeping tight enough a hold of it so that it couldn't be taken away just yet.

The notes did grab the men's attention, but they weren't ready to give out yet; "Where did scum like you get cash like that? You must have stolen it!"

"If I did, would it mattah t' you? We'll all be outta 'ere in an 'our anyway, no one will know," Luke reasoned.

The men exchanged glances; he could see them silently trying to work it out among themselves. But in situations like this money always wins out.

"I reckon we've got a bit of space left, if you don't cause too much fuss," the main speaker said slowly.

"I 'oped you'd see it that way," said Luke, trying not to grin too much as ticket was exchanged for stolen cash and he was begrudgingly allowed onto the ship.

It wasn't as grand as the Titanic by a long shot, but as long as it floated better it was all Luke could ask for. He stayed near the back as it moved away from the dock, wanting to stay out of the way of the other passengers as much as possible. He could see the looks they were giving him – he didn't belong here. They were middle class and he wasn't even good enough to shovel manure off their roads. How could a boy like him even afford to be on this ship?

Well, not easily. Luke could have told them that. What they thought wasn't important though; the only things that were important were London and the professor and… home.

Settling down, Luke quietly mumbled a 'good night' to his parents, their souls resting in this ocean, before trying to get to sleep.

To say that he slept with one eye open would have been a lie, regardless of what years of living on the street had taught him about how to keep hold of your possessions; he slept quite soundly on the boat. Man was most vulnerable while he slept, but the child-like part of Luke that still wanted to believe in such things told him that perhaps his parents were protecting him for this night.

Whether they were or weren't, Luke got up later on to spend the rest of the journey standing at the front of the ship, waiting for London to appear.

When he caught a glimpse of it on the horizon it was a sight for sore eyes. Here was home! At long last he was back where he belonged. The knot in his stomach grew as he wondered how much it had changed and if he'd even be able to track down his old friends after so long, but he was closer now than he ever had been and he wasn't going to let any doubt stop him.

As the boat docked he made his way through the throng of others leaving, shoved aside by people not wanting to be close to a tramp like him but not caring. Home! Where the sea air smelled better!

…Or he would have liked to have said that, anyway. It certainly had a different smell to it than what the docks of America had, but for the most part it was still over-powered by the scent of fish that merchants were trying to sell to people passing by.

Luke took a moment to admire the stalls and their loud salesmen. One of them was in deep conversation with a woman who had her back to Luke, obviously trying to make her spend as much money as possible.

"You see, I don't feel that this one will do," the woman was saying, "Don't you have anything bigger?"

"I reckon I might…" the man grumbled, not wanting to put all of his gambling chips on the table just yet, "You must be making some big stew if you want more than that though, miss."

"Oh no, this isn't for a stew! It's going into the cake I'm working on," she assured him.

A fish in a cake…?

There was only one person Luke had ever known who thought it was acceptable to bake a fish into a cake.

"Flora!"

The girl spun around then clamped her hands against her mouth.

"My word, it can't be! You're… you died!" she gasped.

"Well I came back from the dead t' see you and the professah," he laughed

"He'll be… he'll be… I'm not sure how he'll be actually," Flora stammered, "After so long he's kind of accepted that you were gone…"

"This'll be quite a surprise for 'im then, won't it?" replied Luke, "Can you take me t' see 'im when you're done?"

"I suppose I can, it's not too far out of my way, but I don't actually live with him anymore…" she murmured.

That took him back for a moment, but then he should have known. Flora had grown up now as well as him and he had noticed the flash of gold from her finger when she had covered her mouth.

"So you're engaged?" he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

She flushed slightly, but answered, "Um, yes… I am. He's a little older than me but he's a decent sort and you'd probably like him. H-his name is Harry Hammond."

"Lookin' forward to meetin' 'im," Luke replied, although he was more looking forward to failing at pronouncing the poor man's name – she had to marry someone who had two Hs in his title, didn't she?

"Maybe once you've seen the professor first," said Flora, knowing that seeing him was going to be first on Luke's list of priorities, "Just let me pay for this and I'll take you by his house."

She turned back to the merchant, seeming a lot less fussy than she had done just before about selecting the ideal fish for her cake as she picked up the largest one on offer and paid for it with no fuss.

Then the two of them made it on foot to Layton's home. As they walked Flora tried not to be too repulsed by Luke's appearance, he was a childhood friend after all, but it was hard not to notice the tattered, too short clothing, the skin patched with dirt and the… the smell. It was not at all pleasant. Did Luke notice the smell? He'd never been the cleanest boy in the world but he used to have standards.

And people were looking at them. Over the years Flora had made a name for herself as Layton's daughter. She did have standards and walking around with a scruffy street rat like this wasn't seen as appropriate for an engaged woman such as herself. But surely everyone who knew the professor would recognise his old apprentice? From the looks he was getting that didn't seem to be the case.

On the other hand Luke was completely oblivious to their stares. He'd grown up thinking of people like these as targets carrying the money that he needed, but right now there was only one thing that he needed and it wasn't their pocket change. Staring ahead of them, Luke started to feel almost giddy as they got closer to the house that he knew the professor lived in. Even after all these years it seemed the man still hadn't changed location.

"You're lucky to catch him today, actually," Flora said conversationally, as they walked up the path, "He's taking a day off to catch up on marking. Harry is covering for him at the university."

"Still at Gressen'ellah?" Luke asked.

"Of course," she said, smiling as she knocked on the door before opening it, "Professor? Forgive me for interrupting but I've got a guest who'd like to see you with me."

"Nonsense, my girl, you know that a gentleman would never turn away gues-"

Layton froze in midsentence as he walked out from the study to see who Flora had brought with her.

It was… It couldn't be…!

"'ello, professah," Luke said awkwardly.

"My boy!"

The outburst had been unexpected, even for Luke, but not so much as what happened next. Layton darted forward with speed that would have surprised anyone who'd never seen him run from one of Don Paolo's robots, grabbing Luke in a tight hug and… and he was actually sobbing into Luke's shoulder, holding the boy's head close to him.

"You're alive… you're actually alive! Oh my boy, I'm sorry that I ever doubted you…" Layton murmured between the tears.

"It's okay, professah," Luke assured him, pulling away from the grip a little for air, "It's not like you coulda know otherwise and it took me this long t' come back 'ome."

Pulling back to regard him closely, to really see how much he'd grown, Layton said, "You don't mean to tell me that all this time you've been trying to get back here?"

"It wasn't easy I can tell you that," Luke replied.

"So your parents are definitely…?"

"Sorry, professah…" Luke answered, hanging his head.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. You made it back, Luke, and that's good enough. It is… more than I could ever have asked for," said Layton.

Looking from the professor to Flora, Luke admitted, "Um, though I've gotta admit I don't know what t' do now I am 'ere. Really I nevah planned further than meetin' you guys."

"You'll stay with me, of course," Layton firmly told him.

"But professah!"

…But professah, what? But professah I don't think you'll like the sort of person I've become and I'm more accustomed to sleeping in an alley? But professah all of your students and guests will just look like targets for me to steal from because that's what I've grown up doing? But professah I'm… not a gentleman.

I've let you down, professah.

He couldn't say any of that, even if it was true.

"No, I'll have no buts," Layton said, cutting into his thoughts, "You are going to march yourself up to the bathroom and get yourself a wash, because I'm very sorry to say this but you certainly need one, then you are going to get yourself changed into some clean clothes while Flora and I clear out the spare room for you."

When faced with demands like that, all Luke could manage to say was, "Yes, professah."

So he took himself upstairs to bathe, while Layton and Flora cleared out a room for him, feeling guilty to be an inconvenience. But as he slid into the water it felt so good… Over his years on the street, Luke had bathed in the dirty waters of the dock, but this was the first real bath he'd had since he'd left London all those years before. His body practically cried out for joy, so much that he just lay there for a long while without making any attempt to wash at all.

After a while he heard Layton leave a change of clothes outside for him and felt that the water was beginning to get cold, so he finished cleaning himself off before getting out and ready.

The clothes were too big for him, though he didn't expect Layton to have anything in his size anyway, but they weren't as baggy on him as they could have been. He had grown quite a bit.

Once dressed, he made his way across the hall to where the other two were boxing up old artefacts in the spare room. Luke knew that this had once been Flora's room, but when she moved out the professor must have just started using it to store fossil samples and other things he'd horded from work in. You could call Layton a lot of things, but a good house cleaner was not among them. Before he'd left it had even been Luke who used to tidy up his office and home for him.

"You don't 'ave t' got t' all this trouble for me," he said weakly.

"It's no trouble at all," Layton promised him fondly.

Almost as if on cue, perhaps looking for an excuse to leave, Flora slapped her face.

"Oh no, silly me! Can you believe that I've left the cake in the oven all this time? I-I was expecting just to go to the docks and back but we have got rather sidetracked. Very sorry but I'm going to have to excuse myself, lest the cake be burned to a lump, see you both again soon," she cried, making her way to the door all the while she was talking.

"Okay then Flora, I'm sure we'll see you next time," Layton called after as she shut the door behind her.

"I thought the fish was for the cake…" Luke mumbled thoughtfully.

Turning back to him, Layton confirmed, "Lately Flora has taken to putting the fish on top of the cakes as decoration instead of baking them inside of it, but I can't help but thinking she might have been excusing herself so we could catch up. Or at least I hope that was the case…"

They were both familiar enough with Flora's cooking to know that either option could be true.

"That 'arry must 'ave a strong stomach," Luke commented.

"I, um, I did warn him about her… inventive cooking before they got engaged," Layton agreed, "Thought it was only fair."

Walking over to take a seat on the bed, Luke commented, "You don't 'ave t' take all your stuff away, really. I know 'ow much you like these things and no offense, professah, but I'm bettah at cleanin' than you."

Layton laughed.

"Well if that's the case then you haven't done a very good job of keeping yourself clean over the years, my boy," he said light-heartedly.

"Oi!"

"You know I'm joking."

"I know you're not!" Luke shot, then laughed himself, "But you are right… I 'aven't be able t'."

"If you don't mind my asking, how have you been getting by for the past few years?" Layton queried, taking a seat next to him.

Here it comes, the bit where Luke knew he had to be honest and the professor would lose all respect for him…

"You won't like it," Luke warned.

"There is very little that could shock me at this point," assured Layton.

Looking him dead in the eyes, Luke began, "I've bin stealin', from rich people. People 'oo can afford it. And I know that doesn't make it right, but it was all I could do and I needed t' and… and…"

The professor held a finger up to Luke's lips.

"Shush now, my boy. I know that it can't have been easy for you. And while I admit that it strays very far from the gentleman's way you were just a child and I see that you had no choice. You did what you had to," Layton comforted.

"Professah… Do you still think I could be a gentleman?" Luke asked weakly.

He wanted to ask if Layton could ever forgive him, but somehow that was hard to get out. This question was easier.

"I think that with the correct guidance you could be as fine a young gentleman that London has ever seen," confirmed Layton.

Only Luke knew that wasn't really true, because no one could ever be quite as fine of a gentleman as the professor was, but it was good enough for him. He hugged Layton once more, feeling like he was a kid again and doing so was still acceptable. If it wasn't then Layton didn't protest.

"Thanks, professah…"

Layton mouthed something that could have been 'you're welcome' but Luke couldn't quite make it out. Regardless, the two stayed like that in silence, Luke hugging him, for what might have been hours, simply content that they had finally been reunited after all hope had seemed to be lost.

Luke Triton had become independent, perhaps not in the right ways, but with a bit of guidance from his closest friend he would make it back on the right track.

A street urchin could become a gentleman, if Professor Layton showed him how.


End file.
